The Art of Loss
by christmasinacup
Summary: Post-IWTB. Mulder feels like the little house is no longer a home now that Scully is gone. But if you ask her, she gets along without him very well. Except when... well, you'll see.
1. A House Is Not A Home

I was listening to Kristin Chenoweth's album "The Art of Elegance" and a few songs kept reminding me of MSR. Here's a quick, 3-part story about their lives sometime after IWTB (let's just ignore season 10). Each chapter title corresponds to a song on the album. This first chapter is Mulder's POV.

* * *

This house hasn't felt like a home since Scully left. With no one to kiss goodnight or snuggle with on the couch when it's gloomy and rainy outside like today. Even the motel rooms we shared felt more like a home, because we were together.

My old apartment was nothing more than two rooms. It wasn't a house, and it sure as hell wasn't a home.

I could never have a home without Scully. She is the only home I've ever known. We're far apart now, and one of us has a broken heart. Well, maybe two of us. When she left, it seemed like she had started to heal already. She had a sense of peace about her, like she was ready to accept a new life, a less complicated one. A life without me.

I stopped taking my medication briefly when she left, even though she made me promise to stay on it. I started to hallucinate; I'd sit on the bed and yell her name, letting it echo off all the empty walls of the house. I'd see her face for a split second in the hall and go running through the house looking for her.

It was a stupid, crazy game to play. Every time I did it, I regretted it. It ended in tears and I swore to never do it again. But like an addict, I longed for the high of seeing her smile for even two seconds. There were pictures of us, though very few, in frames that I had moved to the attic. I purposefully got very drunk and hid them so I wouldn't know where to find them.

She changed me; I'm no longer meant to live alone. On the rare occasion that I leave the house, when I return, I hope to God that when I turn the key in the lock and open the front door, she'll be sitting on the couch, reading like she used to be. She loved reading on that old leather couch, the only relic from my former apartment. My old bed, technically. I haven't sat on it since she left.

The couch is still a goddamn couch, even when no one is sitting in it, but it always felt like it was only a couch when Scully sat there. Without her, it was just a cruel reminder of how lonely I used to be. So I cover it with a blanket most days and try to pretend all that's under the flannel mass are boxes.

I want to call her every day and say, "Please, Scully. Don't let this mistake keep us apart."

I used to wake up every morning and pray she would be beside me in bed, still in love with me. Then I would open my eyes and I would be alone. I used to think I meant for the lone wolf lifestyle, that I was meant to be solitary. But not after all she and I went through.


	2. I Get Along Without You Very Well

Part 2: Scully's POV.

* * *

I get along without Mulder very well.

Except on days like today, when the torrential downpour reminds me of our first case in Oregon. He pronounced it "Orry-gone" not "Or-gen" like most people do. When I was driving home from work today, going 10 mph slower than normal due to the rain, I zoned out for a bit. I was humming along to the the radio and all of the sudden, I was on my street. Nine minutes had passed. The irony is not lost on me.

This weather reminds me of the thrill I felt the first time Mulder held me in his arms. I could still feel the warmth of his touch through that worn-out bathrobe. The soft tone of his voice as we talked for hours, bathed in moonlight. I was young and stubborn and too worried about the fact that he might be a lunatic, or else I would have kissed him that very night.

But I get along without him fairly well. That's what I told my mother last time she called. I know she didn't believe me, but she pretended to.

I've done my best to forget him like I should. But then I would hear an amused chuckle behind me at the grocery store or the inflection of joy in a healing patient's voice when they say my name and I think of him. There was a young boy last week, recovering extremely well from his surgery. When I came into the room to tell him and his parents that he was on track to be released a day early, he grinned and said "Hello Doctor Scullayyy" in a singsongy voice. He was wearing pajamas with the solar system on them and I cried in the bathroom for ten minutes afterward. He was the age William would have been.

 _Is._ The age William _is_ now.

I feel like a fool, to think I could kid myself. To pretend that my heart isn't broken. To think I could go about my daily life the same way, business as usual, now that I don't come home to him at the end of the day.

Sometimes, like tonight, I feel weak enough to maybe fall again. Then I remind myself, _Dana, stick to the decision you made. You did the right thing._

I get along without him very well, of course I do. I've never had a problem being on my own. Except at night, when I have to fall asleep alone, something I once preferred but now have a very difficult time with. I've started taking sleeping pills, but I tell myself it's just because I'm getting older.

What a man. What a fool am I, to think that being without him would be easy. To think that the life I'll have from now on will be simpler. It has been somewhere close to seventeen years since I lived a life without Fox Mulder.

But I get along alright without him, really I do.


	3. You're My Saving Grace

She showed up at his front door - well, the front door that used to be theirs. She didn't know it, but he had been toying with the idea of visiting her. However, that would've involved a phone call, because he didn't remember her address. Or maybe he'd destroyed the piece of paper with her new information in a manic episode.

It took her five minutes to knock. She no longer had a key - she didn't remember when and how she gave back her copy, but she had.

He was in the kitchen making coffee when he heard a knock and swore he fabricated it. Then a second knock came. Only a few people knew he lived here, and the hope that the person at the door was the one he wanted it to be made him sprint to through the house.

He opened it and saw her standing there, as beautiful and frustrating as ever, in jeans, a black coat and pale blue sweater. He didn't know what to say, despite the many times he'd rehearsed it. Neither did she, despite what she'd rehearsed on her drive over.

It was a few moments of silence as they made eye contact. Scully felt she might melt from the intense heat radiating from his chocolate brown eyes. Finally, she just had to speak, and the words tumbled out:

"Your love is the one thing I can't lose."

"What?" Mulder asked quietly. It was genuine confusion - he kind of thought she hated him. Or may not hate, but strong disdain. She didn't seem to want him, let alone need him, when she left. He has been so heartbroken for so long because he thought she no longer loved him.

"I lost Melissa, I lost my dad, I lost…" she paused. She didn't want to say his name - after all, she didn't _lose_ him, she gave him up. She failed him as a mother. She took a deep breath.

"…I lost William. I failed him and I failed you, Mulder. When I was young, I was always treating my relationships as temporary, always one foot out the door. I was never stopping to look for something true and real. And then came you -" she teared up and bit her tongue so the tears wouldn't spill down her cheeks. She saw his face soften. He could tell she was on the verge of tears.

"You were the best thing that ever happened to me," she said softly. "A raging fire that tore through my life and changed it for good, that took my soul to the wire. Falling in love with you was like walking on a tightrope and I somehow knew I would never fall. Mulder, I'm so sorry. I let you down, made you think I didn't love you, but it's not true. I love you so much. Your love is my saving grace."

She broke down into tears, waiting for him to say anything. If he spat at her and told her to leave, she'd understand. She hadn't planned on losing her cool like this, but seeing him and the pain in his eyes made her realize what she'd done.

He wasn't ready to take her into his arms yet. He sighed sadly.

"I did think you didn't love me anymore," he said slowly. He didn't want to sound malicious, just honest. It was hard to forgive her, but he wasn't an idiot. He wanted her back so badly.

"I sometimes wondered if you ever loved me at all, because I was so beneath you… but I never stopped loving you, I just wished our problems away. And that was my fault, because I didn't talk to you. I just pretended everything was fine."

Scully nodded slowly, wiping tears from her face. A few quiet ones were steadily sliding down her cheeks, but she could see him now without her vision blurring.

"You were never beneath me," she whispered. "You were always my salvation in this crazy fucking world. I was such a fool to think that I could go on without you."

He smiled a little bit. "You always got along just fine without me. But I can't live without you, Scully. My heaven is in your arms, where I know I'm safe."

She caved. She had to touch him, feel that thrill of being sheltered in his arms. She walked towards him slowly, waiting to see if he'd close himself off. He didn't.

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed, beginning to cry again. He squeezed back, a few tears collecting in his own eyes.

"I am so, so sorry I left you," she said through sobs. "I shouldn't have -"

"Shh, I know, I know," Mulder said, stroking her hair. God, she'd missed this. "I'm not meant to live alone, Scully. This place isn't a home without you."

"Can I come back?," she asked, slowly drawing away so she could look him in the eyes. He cupped her cheeks nodded.

"Of course. Please, come back. It's all I've wanted since you left."

"We're gonna make it this time," she promised him, placing her hands on top of his. "I promise."

"Do you promise?," he asked. He wanted to believe, but he was still processing the fact that she didn't hate him.

"I broke my own heart the day I left you and I'm sure I broke yours," she said, frowning. "I promise to heal them both and never let you go another day alone. You're my saving grace."

"And you're mine," he whispered, kissing her softly. She smiled against his lips and felt home for the first time in months.


End file.
